


D.S. al Coda

by hanzopanzo (floralstiel)



Series: Tuyo [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Brainwashing, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Technically everything in here is non-consensual
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22469335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralstiel/pseuds/hanzopanzo
Summary: Stop. Rewind. Eject.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Series: Tuyo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/892062
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	D.S. al Coda

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiii :)
> 
> There's purposeful repetition in this fic, no I didn't accidentally copy/paste things lol

“You awake, cowboy?”

Jesse woke slowly, parts of his brain not responding as fast as others, and through it all was the pain. Too bright and sharp to ignore. Jesse swallowed and remained still. Even swallowing tugged at the flaring center of burning agony at the base of his neck. He opened his eyes, tracking across the room to land on the shadowed speaker.

“Gabriel,” he spoke. His voice was barely over a whisper, ragged and torn, and he swallowed despite the pain. “What happened?”

“Couldn’t get you out in time. They got you.”

“They…” Jesse frowned, brows furrowing in concentration. He couldn’t think of anything beyond the burning on his neck.

“They tried to kill you,” Gabriel continued.

“The UN…?”

Jesse wasn’t sure if that was right, but it…felt like the right thing to say. He couldn’t remember details, but he knew they were involved. Gabriel paused.

“That’s right, Jesse. They attacked us.”

“How could…”

“From the inside.”

It was starting to form.

“They infiltrated Blackwatch, poisoned Overwatch against us, defiled our work and our purpose.”

“But why?” Jesse asked, voice still small and unbelieving, like a child’s.

“We got too close. You remember, don’t you? Our last special project.”

It tickled at Jesse’s mind, twinged at the back of his neck, but it was still muddy, he was still confused and so, so tired. He sighed and screwed his eyes shut, resisting the urge to curl up on the cot.

“I’m sorry, Gabe, I don’t remember.”

Gabriel hummed, not moving from his place in the corner, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Don’t worry Jesse, it’ll come to you. Give it time.”

Jesse relaxed, letting himself go loose on the cot, Gabriel’s words following him down to slumber.

“You awake, cowboy?”

Jesse opened his eyes, tracking across the room to land on the shadowed speaker.

“Gabriel,” he spoke. His voice was barely over a whisper, ragged and torn, and he swallowed despite the pain. “What happened?”

“Couldn’t get you out in time. They got you.”

“They…” Jesse frowned, brows furrowing in concentration. He couldn’t think of anything beyond the burning on his neck.

“They tried to kill you,” Gabriel continued.

“The UN…?”

Jesse wasn’t sure if that was right, but it…felt like the right thing to say. He couldn’t remember details, but he knew they were involved. Gabriel paused.

“That’s right, Jesse. They attacked us.”

“How could…”

“From the inside.”

It was starting to form.

“They infiltrated Blackwatch, poisoned Overwatch against us, defiled our work and our purpose.”

“But why?” Jesse asked, voice still small and unbelieving, like a child’s.

“We got too close. You remember, don’t you? Our last special project.”

It tickled at Jesse’s mind, twinged at the back of his neck.

“The bomb,” he whispered, endless schematics and reports dancing behind his eyelids.

“Yes,” Gabriel replied.

“We couldn’t stop them,” Jesse continued, voice hitching with emotion, “all those people, dead and– and for what?”

“We never got to the bottom of it, did we?” Gabriel interrupted calmly.

Jesse didn’t quite cry, it hurt his eyes too much, but he could gasp out quiet, anguished sobs over the fallen, at their failure. He felt a hand in his hair and he gasped, opening his eyes. He saw a white mask, like bone, horrifically shaped. It reminded him of…

“It’s alright Jesse, it’s me.”

“Wh-what?” Jesse croaked, transfixed by the mask.

“They almost got me too,” Gabriel, the mask, said. And his voice, it rasped and clawed, multi-faceted and inhuman. Jesse recoiled despite the flare behind his neck, pain screaming through his skin.

“No,” Jesse moaned, “you’re not Gabe. He died, he…you were hunting me…the train, I…”

The figure sighed, resting a dangerously clawed, gloved hand on the cot by his face.

“Don’t worry Jesse,” it spoke in that awful voice, “it’ll come to you. Give it time.”

His eyes drooped, he was unbelievably tired, so he shut them, blocking out the terrible figure as he fell into slumber.

“You awake, cowboy?”

Jesse opened his eyes, tracking across the room to land on the shadowed speaker.

“Gabriel,” he spoke. His voice was barely over a whisper, ragged and torn, and he swallowed despite the pain. “What happened?”

“Couldn’t get you out in time. They got you.”

“They…” Jesse frowned, brows furrowing in concentration. He couldn’t think of anything beyond the burning on his neck.

“They tried to kill you,” Gabriel continued.

“The UN…?”

Jesse wasn’t sure if that was right, but it…felt like the right thing to say. He couldn’t remember details, but he knew they were involved. Gabriel paused.

“That’s right, Jesse. They attacked us.”

“How could…”

“From the inside.”

It was starting to form.

“They infiltrated Blackwatch, poisoned Overwatch against us, defiled our work and our purpose.”

“But why?” Jesse asked, voice still small and unbelieving, like a child’s.

“We got too close. You remember, don’t you? Our last special project.”

It tickled at Jesse’s mind, twinged at the back of his neck.

“The bomb,” he whispered, endless schematics and reports dancing behind his eyelids.

“Yes,” Gabriel replied.

“We couldn’t stop them,” Jesse continued, voice hitching with emotion, “all those people, dead and– and for what?”

“We never got to the bottom of it, did we?” Gabriel interrupted calmly.

Jesse didn’t quite cry, it hurt his eyes too much, but he could gasp out quiet, anguished sobs over the fallen, at their failure. He felt a hand in his hair and he gasped, opening his eyes. He saw a white mask, like bone, horrifically shaped. It reminded him of…

“It’s alright Jesse, it’s me.”

“Wh-what?” Jesse croaked, transfixed by the mask.

“They almost got me too,” Gabriel, the mask, said. And his voice, it rasped and clawed, multi-faceted and inhuman. Jesse recoiled despite the flare behind his neck, pain screaming through his skin.

“Oh…Gabe…” Jesse sobbed, whole body shuddering, “what did they do to you?”

He was remembering, now, still so incredibly slow, and in pieces, but it was coming back.

“They took you,” Jesse spoke, Gabriel remained silent, “they…tortured you…”

“Shh…” Gabriel soothed, brushing his hand through Jesse’s hair. “I’m safe now, _you’re_ safe. They almost killed you, but I didn’t let them.”

“Why does it hurt so much?”

Gabriel cocked his masked head and reached down, somewhere out of sight, and soon enough sweet, cool numbness swept over his neck. He sighed, finally able to think clearly without the pain.

“Better now?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“The pain will fade soon, give it time.”

Jesse closed his eyes with a smile, comfortable with the fact that Gabriel was safe and was watching over him.

-

“You awake, cowboy?”

Jesse opened his eyes and sat up, surprised he could do so.

“Yeah, Gabe,” he replied, swinging his legs over the side of the cot.

“Take it easy, keep it simple.”

Jesse nodded, and while there was no pain, something tugged at the skin at the base of his neck. He frowned and reached back, surprised when he felt cold metal latched to his skin in linked pieces, like an exposed metal spine.

“What the…?”

“Jesse—”

He ignored Gabriel and dug a finger between the metal plates and skin. He locked tight as a bright lance of pain shot straight into his brain. He screamed, then collapsed.

“You awake, cowboy?”

Jesse opened his eyes and sat up, surprised he could do so.

“Yeah, Gabe,” he replied, swinging his legs over the side of the cot.

“Take it easy, keep it simple.”

Jesse nodded, and while there was no pain, something tugged at the skin at the base of his neck. He frowned and reached back, surprised when he felt cold metal latched to his skin in linked pieces, like an exposed metal spine.

“Don’t touch it,” Gabriel murmured, gently pulling his hand in front of him to rest on his lap. He was nude, but he found he didn’t mind at all, especially not around Gabriel. The door opened and a uniformed man and a white-coated woman stepped inside, a wheeled metal tabled pulled along between them with all sorts of medical devices and such on its smooth surface.

“This is Dr. Preston. She will examine you,” Gabriel said, barely stepping aside to afford the doctor the slightest room to work. She seemed a little nervous, eyeing the uniformed man every minute or so as she conducted her exam. She tapped over the metal spine behind his neck, prodding the skin around it. He saw her pick up a syringe, felt the prick on his neck, but otherwise no discomfort.

“It’s healing well,” the doctor spoke, removing her gloves. “Make sure he doesn’t touch it aga–ahem, make sure he doesn’t touch it. It should be fully healed by the end of the week.”

“Good,” Gabriel replied. The doctor shuddered and flinched away when he spoke. Jesse wondered why but he didn’t want to speak, knowing it was better to sit and listen.

“Jesse,” Gabriel spoke, and Jesse turned his way, expectant.

“Give it time.”

Jesse closed his eyes with a smile, comfortable with the fact that Gabriel was watching over him.

“You awake, cowboy?”

Jesse opened his eyes and sat up. They weren’t in the same room, and Jesse was no longer on a cot. Instead, the room was dark, though a quick glance showed plenty of available overhead lights and lamps, though they were all deactivated. All he could see were small tabs of light around the room from various machinery and power banks, little red beads in the dim. The only thing on the walls was a large mirror across the room. He was sitting on a large bed, comfortable, clean, but slightly dusty, as if it hadn’t been used in awhile.

“Jesse.”

He turned his head, finding Gabriel’s shape in the dark. He was without the bulky armor and hooded coat he wore before, standing instead only in a loose sweatshirt and pants.

“Kiss me,” Gabriel said, and Jesse stood from the bed. He walked to Gabriel and placed his hand on the man’s chest, leaning up to press his lips against the cold white mask.

“Good,” Gabriel spoke, and it sent a ripple of warmth down Jesse’s spine.

“Hold me.”

Jesse obliged, looping his arms around Gabriel’s waist and rested his head on the man’s chest. There was no warmth, no heartbeat beneath his ear, but he did not waver.

“Good,” Gabriel repeated and the warmth spread in him once more.

-

“It’s not as convincing as when he first woke.”

“We won’t get that level of mental aptitude back, not for awhile at least,” Moira sighed, the both of them standing on the other side of the mirror, watching the gunslinger sleep. “It took months for Lacroix’s full capacities to return, and _she_ didn’t take a bullet to the spine.”

“Noted,” Reaper grunted. “Remind me to thank her for that.”

“She’s had enough, I think,” Moira chuckled, remembering the sniper’s cool rage when she was recalled for reconditioning. Her face had been empty, but those eyes had said enough. “But I will take some of the blame for McCree’s fever. It was unexpected.”

Reaper said nothing.

“But he has recovered, and we can begin again,” Moira continued, fingers trembling so she shoved her hands in her pockets. This was…excitement. It was exhilarating. She tamped down on the smile creeping across her lips and turned from the glass, leaving Reaper to his twisted thoughts, so she could tend to her own.


End file.
